


Midnight Snack

by OneEyedDestroyer



Series: Beautiful, Languid, and Filthy-Gorgeous [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Masturbation, Multi, Sexual Frustration, Todd didn’t mean to be pervy but here the fuck we are, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 10:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneEyedDestroyer/pseuds/OneEyedDestroyer
Summary: Todd is heading to the kitchen for a snack when he accidentally witnesses something he shouldn’t. He can’t bring himself to turn back.





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vivi_Marius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivi_Marius/gifts).



> Well, this is Awkward™️. 
> 
> Right after I wrote  
> [ **Release** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302008?view_adult=true), Vivi joked about how Todd was probably secretly creeping on the stairs the whole time. I wrote up this fic not too long after, but I kept forgetting to finish and edit it. I even mention this moment in Smoke Signals, but I never got around to posting this part. 
> 
> After months (seriously, I wrote most of this in April) this bad boy is finally going up. This fic has been self edited, but not beta read by anyone else. A rare move from me. Thanks to [ **Rae** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/highestkingbambi) for encouraging me to just throw it out into the wild. The impromptu nature of the fic inspired me to be a little less meticulous.

Todd’s stomach rumbles. He’s been studying for what feels like hours and has barely managed to get through half a page. Rubbing his eyes, he blinks rapidly to try to refocus. They ache from staring at the same blob of black ink on white paper. The letters are bleeding together; he’s not sure if this is Turkish or Math. He can hardly concentrate because the hunger has gotten so intense. Todd closes his book and sets it down next to him. Hopping out of bed, he makes his way down the hallway with a light skip in his step. He’s pretty sure he still has some hummus left, maybe some popcorn. Oooh! Ice cream! At this point he just needs something to eat, it doesn’t matter what. As he walks by the colorfully painted doors of the cottage, he hears the faint sound of someone moaning in pleasure. It’s definitely a woman, but he’s not sure which door it’s coming from. He tries not to pay too much attention and continues his pursuit. As he begins to descend the staircase, a stern voice stops him dead in his tracks.

 

“What did we just discuss?” Wait, is that Margo? His heart skips a beat. She sounds frustrated, almost exhausted, like she can’t catch her breath. Todd briefly wonders if she’s talking to him, but he rules that unlikely. He can’t remember the last time he discussed anything with her. “Who do you think I am, El?” This time her voice is husky and demanding; Todd tries not to think about how hot she sounds while she’s fighting with Eliot, focusing instead on his goal of making it to snackfood heaven. He slowly continues his way down the stairs, one step at a time, making a point to be as quiet as possible. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself; the last thing he needs is an angry Eliot and Margo tearing him to shreds for interrupting their tiff.

The moaning from before gets louder. No way. They’re not—He turns around, he could’ve sworn it was coming from upstairs. Closing his eyes, he takes a second to listen, telling himself that he just wants to know what direction the sounds are coming from so he can be extra quiet when he walks past their door. It’s definitely coming from down here and he’s so much more confused and invested in this than he should be. He peaks over the stairs and sees Margo sitting on a table with her head thrown back in ecstasy, Eliot is on his knees between her legs. Holy shit. His heart starts racing. He quickly tries to hurry back up a few steps to avoid being seen. He considers taking another peak to double check that he actually saw that he thought he saw, but he doesn’t want to risk getting caught. Another moan, this one hitting him hard at the base of his cock. Suddenly, Todd can’t remember what he came downstairs for, but this is way better.

 

He knows he should go back up to his room, but Margo sounds amazing. The next moan is so distinctly _her_ that he can’t believe he didn’t recognize it earlier. It’s incredible that she still manages to sound powerful even at the mercy of Eliot’s tongue. The way her voice catches in her throat as she rides out the pleasure sends a chill through him. He brushes his stiffening cock along the railing—accidentally of course. A soft hum melts into a louder, raspier moan. He should definitely go back upstairs, but can’t bring himself to just yet. Her breathing is getting heavy, like she’s fighting back the moans and it’s driving him crazy. A few thuds and smacks echo through the room in what he assumes are fingers gripping tables and hands wrapping around thighs. Closing his eyes he allows himself to picture the scene. The hazy image of Margo’s legs spread wide as Eliot devours her fills his mind, his brain trying desperately to fill in the way Margo might taste and the warmth of Eliot’s mouth. Fully hard, he’s not sure what he wants more. One the one hand, being responsible for Margo sounding like _that_ is all he’s ever dreamed of. On the other, he is suddenly very keen to know exactly how it feels to have Eliot do whatever he is doing with his tongue. He adds experiencing both at once to his ever-growing list of impossible feats. Another moan and he can’t take it anymore. He clearly isn’t going back upstairs, so he gives his cock a firm grope over his pants. Margo’s moans are growing louder. Holy shit this is so hot. The chance of getting caught is adding a layer that he wasn’t expecting. Slipping his hand slowly into his pocket, he takes hold of his cock. It won’t hurt to stroke the head a little with his thumb. Suddenly, Margo’s moans drop to soft wines, her voice trembling a bit before boiling back up to a deep, raspy groan. A loud thud and what sounds like glass shattering snaps him out of his stupor and he yanks his hand out of his pocket. His heart is racing so fast he’s almost certain they can hear it. Paralyzed by fear, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to move at all, let alone fast enough to get away undetected. He tries to slow his breathing, hoping to will his heart to stop pounding between his ears.

 

“I swear to God, Eliot, if you don’t keep fucking going,” Margo commands, practically panting through the words; he definitely shares the sentiment. He would give anything to be able to make her sound like that. Once it sounds like they’ve picked up where they left off, he exhales. He didn’t even realize he wasn’t breathing.

 

Eliot lets out a wicked, throaty laugh that is just as hot as Margo’s cries of pleasure. Todd’s head is spinning. Margo’s moans are getting so loud he knows he isn’t the only one hearing them anymore. At this point he can't be the only one jerking off to this. They’re practically putting on a show. Margo’s moans are joined by a soft moan from Eliot. He doesn’t know who to be more jealous of. There is something wild and unapologetic in this moment, and it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever heard in his life.

 

The tension building up in his cock is almost painful, he wants desperately to unzip his jeans and get some relief. He settles for slipping his hand back into his pocket, giving himself firm tugs through the fabric. He doesn’t want to risk the sound of his zipper giving him away. Margo’s moans build to a peak, nearly screaming, like she’s lost somewhere between pleasure and pain. The sound echoes off the cottage walls, filling the room. He can only imagine what she looks like right now as she rides out her orgasm against Eliot’s mouth. Okay, he lied. _This_ is the most incredible thing he has ever heard in his life. It takes everything in him not to come on the spot. He’s going to think about this moment every time he gets off for the rest of his life.

 

It’s quiet. What does he do now? There is a soft muttering of voices, but he can’t make out what they’re saying underneath the pounding of his heart. Todd considers making his way down the rest of the stairs, but his cock is painfully hard, he doubts that would go unnoticed. He is in no condition to even consider trying to play that off.

 

“We should probably clean that up before somebody walks in and gets hurt,” Eliot says. Oh no. What if they come this way? How is he going to explain his presence? He’s literally creeping in the dark with a raging boner.

 

“Not gonna lie, I kinda wanna make Todd do it.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Todd’s mind is racing almost as fast as his heart. Do they know? Did they hear him? Is he going to wake up tomorrow with them standing over his bed as payback for his crimes? He sneaks back upstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. He avoids the creaky step, but nearly slips trying to clear it. Whoever invented the handrail is a fucking saint. Once he’s safely upstairs, he quietly pulls his door shut, he prays to every god he’s ever heard of that they didn’t hear. The sight of the books scattered across his bed makes him laugh. He’s definitely not studying tonight.

 


End file.
